


Mushrooms and Hellebore

by rhetoricalrogue



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Complete, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 07:24:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5119997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhetoricalrogue/pseuds/rhetoricalrogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A retelling of Eskel's katakan hunt he described in the Witcher 3 at Kaer Morhen.  No in-game spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mushrooms and Hellebore

**Author's Note:**

> Introducing an original character that's been floating around in my head for a while now. Not related to any of my other Eskel-centric pieces. This might be the first thing I've written about her, but this isn't their first meeting. I haven't quite thought out a timetable, but it's safe to assume that they've known the other for some years before this.

Eskel was walking through the market when a flash of bright blue caught his attention. Eyes narrowed, he strode purposely towards it.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hand going to the woman’s shoulder without him even realizing it.

She paused, her own hand hovering over an apple in the stall. Carefully picking it and placing it in her bag, she slowly turned to him. “Hello to you too, Eskel,” she replied with a small smile.

“If you’ve followed me again, Marle…”

Rolling her eyes, she paid for her purchases. “Not everything is always about you,” she said. Moving over to another vendor, she began to pick out some cuts of meat and a few soup bones. “I live here now.”

“I thought you lived in Toussant.”

“That was last year. I still own the house, but a lovely couple rents it from me now.” Thanking the butcher, she slipped the paper-wrapped meat in with the rest of her purchases and then handed the canvas bag to Eskel to carry. He automatically took it without question. “I was heading back to my place. Care to join me?” She didn’t wait for his answer, but started down the path. He followed, his much longer legs eating up the distance until they were walking side by side, Eskel purposely shortening his gait so she could keep up. They stopped at a quaint looking storefront, where Marle pulled out a key to unlock the front door.

“Nice place,” he said, looking over the shelves displaying powdered ingredients, the dry herbs hanging from hooks in the ceiling, the artful array of textiles making a pleasant, homey feel. He breathed deeply; while he might not like how often his and Marle’s meetings meant that he’d be injured or that she might be placed in some sort of danger, he always did like spending time with the woman. She and all the places she made her temporary home always had a way of putting him at ease.

“Thank you. It’s small, but it’s all they had available. The living quarters are upstairs. Make yourself at home. I’ll brew some of that tea you like.” She took the bag from him and moved to go towards the kitchen set-up he had spied at the very back of the shop. She paused again mid-turn, as if thinking something over. Before he knew it, she had stepped back towards him and her arms were wrapped around his waist.

“I have missed you, Eskel,” she quietly said, her head resting against his collarbone.

His arms folded around her. He bent his neck so he could press his face against the softness of her hair and breathe in the scent of hellebore petals that always seemed to cling to her. “I’ve missed you too,” he replied.

* * *

 

“I take it you’re here for the katakan contract,” she began without preamble, setting two cups and a teapot on the table in her cramped sitting area.

“You knew about it?”

“I thought of you as soon as I read the notice in the square.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Do _not_ go outside after dark, Marle. I mean it; this thing’s already killed several women.”

“ _Noblewomen_ ,” she corrected. “It doesn’t seem interested in any other flavor of blood.”

“Don’t take stupid chances.”

She smiled as she poured the tea. “Are you worried about me, Eskel?”

He snorted, accepting the cup and taking a sip. “I’m _always_ worried about you. You tend to attract trouble the way magnets attract metal.”

She shook her head and lifted her cup to her lips. “Must be why you’re always finding me.” Growing serious, she leaned forward. “Have you spoken to the lord who posted the note yet?”

“No, I was planning on looking for a place to stay first.”

“Save your coin. I have room here.”

“Marle, I’m not going to impose…”

“You aren’t imposing, I’m inviting. If you’re so concerned about your maidenly virtue being in any danger, there’s a space downstairs you can sleep at. I use it for clients who need immediate care and can’t make it to another healer.”

“Fine. Thanks.”

“Anytime. When you do speak to the lord, how are you going to explain how to lure this creature out into the open?”

Eskel shrugged. “I wasn’t planning on explaining anything to him.”

She laughed. “You ought to. He’s the type who likes to know everything. He’s requested my presence in his manor several times and practically micromanaged each session to death. Ask him to host a lavish ball to draw the katakan out. You said that it only preys on noblewomen; have him invite every elite person he knows so there’s plenty of live bait.” She sipped. “He’ll refuse, of course. He has money, but he’s incredibly tight with the purse strings.”

“Then what should I do? Beg?”

Marle poured him another cup. “No, nothing as dramatic as that. Just casually mention that there’s a neighboring baron who would gladly host a ball if you asked him to. The lord here is a rather vain and prideful man who loves to be the center of attention. He’d hate to be one-upped by someone else and he’ll insist on throwing the most lavish gala event you’ve ever seen.”

“Sounds like the guy’s overcompensating for something.”

She grinned. “He is. I usually prescribe powdered boar’s tusk and dried celandine to be sprinkled over raw oysters when I visit.”

“Isn’t that…”

“An aphrodisiac? Yes. The lord often has a time getting his…” she winked. “Little Lord to stand at attention for his lady.”

“And does it work?”

“It’s iffy. The boar’s tusk does absolutely nothing, and the celandine actually only acts as a healing reagent. Taking it dry on a regular basis does nothing more than ensure that you’re healthy, plus it helps with seasonal allergies. The nutrients in the oysters are the real players here. But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“And line your pockets.”

“What can I say? A girl’s got to make a living somehow.” She flicked her eyes over Eskel, her grin widening. “Though something tells me that _you_ don’t ever suffer from the same malady.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her when her gaze lingered on his crotch. “No, I don’t.” Clearing his throat, he set the cup on the table. “But back to the matter at hand. While it’s a good idea, I’d rather hunt this thing down the old fashioned way instead of going to such extremes as throwing it a party.”

She tilted her head. “Well, you’re the monster hunting expert, after all. How long do you think that this will take you?”

Eskel calculated the stalking and luring times in his head. “Probably a night, maybe two at the most.”

Marle smiled and stood up. “It’ll be nice to have someone around then. As much as I like my privacy, it does get a little lonely every so often.” She went over to the small fireplace and warmed her hands. She jumped when Eskel joined her, his breath warm against the bare skin of her neck.

“You don’t have to be alone,” he said, his voice low. “You could always find yourself a man.”

She froze. “And you have one in mind?” she asked, her tone hopeful.

He chuckled. “No, but I’m sure that if you really wanted someone, you could get anyone.”

Marle laughed with him. “You should count yourself lucky I’m single then,” she said, ignoring the way her heart ached. “If I had a man, then you’d have to sleep in the inn.”

* * *

 

It was late when she heard the catch of the shop door’s lock slide in place. She yawned and rose from her chair, knowing without having to call out that Eskel had made it back. She hadn’t meant to wait up for him, but sleep was elusive, worry about him taking on the katakan by himself keeping her awake. She’d caught a brief nap sometime around midnight, but had woken up with a jolt when a dream of Eskel leaning heavily against a wall and clutching his arm had hit her, especially when she saw the blood that smeared against the stone and dripped on the road.

“Eskel?” She quietly started down the stairs, but then rushed down them when she heard the sound of something falling to the ground, followed by Eskel cursing in the room she used as a makeshift clinic.

“You didn’t have to wait up,” he gritted, leaning against the wall and holding his right arm. Blood seeped between the fingers of his left hand and Marle quickly got to work, all fatigue forgotten.

“I wasn’t,” she lied, steering him to the bed she had stacked against the wall, fingers unbuckling the baldric slung across his chest. “Other than the arm, are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No. Bastard got in a lucky hit.” He hissed as he eased the more flexible red brigandine off his shoulders, then the stiffer black leather one he wore underneath. “Shit, gonna have to get this repaired soon.”

“I don’t really give a damn about your armor,” she said, pulling at the grey shirt and trying to hide the way her heart flew into her throat that the sight of the dark stain of blood that had soaked the material. “It obviously didn’t do its job.” Wadding his shirt up, she pressed it against the deep slash on his bicep. After she was certain he would use it to staunch the bleeding, she went to the kitchen to pump water into a basin.

“You don’t need to fuss over me,” he groused, watching as she sat the basin and a clean cloth on the bed beside him and went to her cabinets to fetch some salves. A casual flick of her wrists had the candles on the bedside table and the sconces near his head lit. He had to shake his head, it took a great deal of concentration for her to normally perform magic, but he had noticed that whenever her emotions were in turmoil that she could execute spells effortlessly.

“I’m not fussing. I’m a healer, I’m doing my job.” Marle stood between his parted knees and carefully eased his fingers away from his injury so she could assess the damage. “Don’t you have potions for this type of thing?”

“Didn’t think I’d need to use any.”

“Idiot man. And here I thought you were supposed to be some sort of professional Witcher.” She cleaned the wound as best as she could. The fact that Eskel didn’t comment told her that he was in too much pain to argue with her. “This is deep, but it shouldn’t need stitches.”

“Heh, liar.” He looked down as she efficiently placed a salve that made the wound tingle and the skin around the area cool before bandaging him up. “What, no kissing it and making it feel better?” he quipped.

She looked up at him and paused when she saw the faintest hint of a smile. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask for a candy treat for staying so still while I worked,” she replied.

“I can think of sweeter rewards than candy.”

“And now I know that you’re either poisoned or you lost more blood than you should have coming back here if you're actually flirting with me.” She picked up the basin and dumped the now-bloody water outside. When she came back, she saw that Eskel was still sitting upright, although his chin was now resting against his chest. “I take it by the lack of a body outside my doorstep that the katakan’s still on the loose?”

“You can tell me _I told you so_ after we both get some sleep,” he slurred. “I’ll go talk to the lord about that party in the morning.” He let her ease him down until his head hit the pillows. “Thanks,” he said, reaching out and cupping the side of her face with his hand. His thumb wiped at a streak of blood that marred her cheek.

“What are friends for?” she asked softly, sitting on the sliver of mattress available at his side. He had a brief moment to note the magic that sparkled behind her eyes before she leaned over him and pressed her lips to his forehead. “Sleep, Eskel.” Running her fingers through his hair, she leaned against his hip and tried to catch her breath. Putting him to sleep and completely healing his wound at the same time had taken a toll on her. Marle carefully pulled aside the bandage, satisfied that the muscles and skin had knitted together neatly. He’d have a thin scar to add to his collection, but at least it was whole again. As if on its own volition, her hand smoothed across his shoulder and downwards, fingers trailing across the marks that littered his chest. She jumped when Eskel murmured something in his sleep that sounded suspiciously like her name when her finger followed a long white scar that ran down his side and disappeared under the waistband of his trousers.

“Sleep well,” she murmured, standing up. Marle didn’t risk using any more magic to extinguish the candles she had lit, choosing to manually blow them out. She knew her home by heart by now, so she didn’t need any extra lighting to make it back to bed and she knew that Eskel could see far better in the dark than she ever could, should he wake before dawn. She had just enough presence of mind and energy to perform a cleansing spell to erase any traces of blood that may have dripped both inside her shop and in the area around it outside.  Stumbling back upstairs, she tiredly slipped into bed. She was asleep before her head even hit the pillow.

* * *

 

“Well, what did he say?” Marle asked, looking up from her mortar and pestle when the bells above the shop door chimed.

“You were right, he agreed to it as soon as I mentioned another baron’s name.” Eskel pulled a stool from the kitchen and sat beside her. “How did you know?”

Her eyebrow rose as she continued working. “The baron happens to be a great patron of the arts. The lord’s wife happens to be a great _appreciator_ of the arts. She visits him often.”

“Ah. So in her eyes, the baron is a work of art to appreciate himself? Especially in light of her husband’s…problem?”

“You guessed it. The lord has his suspicions, but nothing concrete. My guess is that he’ll invite the baron not only to show him how much he can provide for his wife, but in the hopes that the katakan will switch from sipping on the blood of noblewomen to certain noble _men_. Hand me that glass flask, please. No, the larger one with the clear liquid already inside. Thank you.” She looked up at him when their fingers brushed. “Has the date for the event been set?”

“Three nights from now. He wanted to wait another fortnight so more guests could arrive, but this monster’s getting braver. It isn’t vulnerable to daylight, but as of now, it’s been keeping all its attacks to the nighttime hours. I’m worried that it won’t wait until dark for much longer.”

She spooned the mashed up ingredients into the flask and stirred it until the clear liquid turned a vibrant purple. “Have you seen anything like this before?”

“No, and that’s why I’m worried. This beast is huge. I didn’t get a good glimpse of it last night because it stuck to the shadows, but it was larger than any I’ve ever faced. Faster too.” He frowned and ran his hand over the side of his face, his fingers lingering at the scar on his chin. It was a nervous habit of his, and one that told Marle he was upset. “What are you making?”

“The monster drew blood last night and you practically bled all over town. It was a smart move on your part to mask your trail, but now it’s gotten a taste and a scent of you. This will take another day to cure, and then you can take it the night of the party. It will mask your scent and give you an upper hand.” She didn't mention that she had added several different herbs that would increase his vitality and reaction times, giving him an even greater advantage.

“Thank you.” He was silent for a moment before looking at her. “I mean it. If it weren’t for your advice, I’d be at a disadvantage dealing with this, and if you hadn’t healed me with your magic…”

“You would have mended on your own,” she interrupted.

“Not without the full use of my sword arm. I owe you for that more than I can ever repay.”

Marle leaned towards him and put her hand on his knee. “I don’t keep track of debts between us, Eskel. You shouldn’t either. I did what I did because I _wanted_ to, not because I had to.” Restoring his health, putting him to sleep, _and_ magically cleansing the surrounding area of his scent and visible blood trail to throw the katakan off should it start hunting him had wiped her out, which meant that Eskel had risen that morning and was out the door before she had even thought of getting up. She’d been groggy and grumpy until well past noon, then she’d closed her shop early to take a long nap.

Eskel reached down and covered the hand on his knee with his own. “For all the help you’ve already given me, I still need to ask for one more favor.”

“You have it. What do you need?”

He straightened, visibly surprised that she would agree so readily without knowing what he wanted. “The lord is willing to host the party to lure the katakan out, but he isn’t willing to risk the health of any of his guests. Will you be terribly busy three nights from now?”

* * *

 

Eskel stared at the glass flask on the counter, the sweet taste of the elixir still lingering on his tongue. He adjusted the mask he had purchased the day before and fiddled with the unfamiliar sword belt that housed only his silver blade at his hip. His identity and scent might be masked from the katakan, but the sight of his twin swords hanging off his back would have been a dead giveaway. Luckily, the ball was a masquerade, and no one would look twice at a man dressed as a mysterious mercenary all in black. Marle had already left for the party, her costume under a large cloth-wrapped bundle. _Your skills at tracking are still sharp, yes?_ she had asked him, giving him a smile and a wink. _Use those legendary senses of yours to find me._

He walked back to the area Marle had set up as a clinic, double checking and then triple checking the items she had laid out for him in case the trap went wrong. Counter-agents for toxins, salves for wounds, bandages, and a basin already full of water ready to be heated with a concentrated Igni sign. He hoped that none of that would be necessary, but he read through the list she had written out again just in case before leaving, the key to her home carefully tucked inside his belt pouch.

The party was already in full-swing by the time he arrived. Marle had warned him about coming any earlier than at least an hour and a half after the party had been said to start. Being fashionably late was better than being early and looking out of place, especially if he had meant to blend in with everyone. He scanned the main room, surprised at the amount of people who had gathered at such short notice. His eyes roved over the laughing couples dancing on the ballroom floor, looking for any sign of his sorceress.

_His sorceress._ He’d never really thought of her as such before. Sure, she was attractive, but he knew that all sorceresses had their physical features altered while they learned at their institutions. He wondered why Marle hadn’t chosen to refine her features more than she had, but the effect still appealed to him. She wasn’t a stunning beauty like many of the other enchantresses he had seen, but there was something in her plainness that drew him to her.

Yet he had no right to call her his; he’d seen the way she and Geralt flirted whenever luck happened to bring the three of them together. They had a past, but it was something that he’d never asked either of them, seeing that it was none of his business what his friends did.

But still…he couldn’t help but be drawn towards her honesty and her friendship. The smiles she gave him always seemed to be as if they had been crafted solely for him and him alone, and he treasured each and every one of them. He sincerely hoped that tonight would go according to plan.

Eskel was about to leave the ballroom and search outside in the gardens when he finally caught the faintest scent of hellebore petals. Following his nose, he was rooted to the spot. A woman dressed in a gown made of gauzy grey material was standing amid a circle of admirers. She laughed, fluttering her fan in front of her face in a coquettish manner, her large blue eyes rimmed with kohl and dusted with shadow that made her normally blueish-grey eyes turn an even more alluring than he had ever seen them. Those eyes locked with him as he approached and he saw her red painted mouth turn into an inviting smile that made his gut clench pleasantly.

“A mysterious mercenary approaches,” she said, tilting her head towards him. She had left her hair down, the dark brown strands curling about her shoulders in a mass of artfully crafted waves. Someone had woven silver and gemstones into the waves, making it look as if she had captured starlight in her hair.

“Ah, yes.” One of the more elaborately dressed men at her side stood to attention. It didn’t take Eskel long to recognize the lord who had hired him. “Might I have the honor of presenting the illustrious Duchess Mirabelle of Toussaint?”

“A pleasure,” he said, holding onto her offered hand. The scent of oranges and spices clung to her wrist and he had to refrain from pressing his mouth against her skin like he truly wanted to. Still, he had to smile at the way her hand trembled as he skimmed his lips across her knuckles in a perfectly gentlemanly manner.

She wet her lips, causing his eyes to dart up. “And you are?”

“Let’s keep the mystery of my name just that.” He bowed to the gentlemen. “I would hate to deprive you of such beautiful company, but I would also cause offence if I did not request a dance with such a lovely vision.” Gallantly offering his arm, he grinned down at her as she allowed him to escort her to the dance floor.

“I didn’t know you danced,” Marle said as he swept her into a waltz.

“Winters are slow and get boring. Lambert decided to learn one year. I wound up drawing the short straw as his partner; long story, don’t ask.” He looked down at her. “Who are you supposed to be tonight, _Duchess_?”

She frowned playfully. “And here I thought it was obvious. I’m supposed to be the evening fog rolling in.”

“Dangerous, yet incredibly beautiful.” He tightened his hand on her waist. “And so very easy to get lost in.” Inhaling, he tipped his head closer to hers. “Oranges and cloves. It’s…”

“A familiar scent. One that all the previous ladies wore. I’m hoping that will increase my chances of being picked tonight.”

“And the vial, have you…?”

“No. Not until I’m absolutely certain I know who our target is.” The music ended and she looked up at his plain silver half-mask that covered all of his scars. “Mingle, then find me a few hours from now.”

He pulled her hand up to his lips again, this time lingering when her breath caught in her throat. “Stay safe,” he murmured, bowing low over her hand and stepping away.

* * *

 

Eskel kept to the sidelines most of the night. He wandered the edges of each room and out in the gardens, keeping Marle in his peripheral vision all evening. Every so often his medallion would vibrate underneath his doublet, and he kept catching the same man eying Marle as if she were a doe out in the woods and he were a wolf waiting to pounce. Eskel’s hands had tightened into fists every time he saw him, but there wasn’t enough to go by to confront the stranger. He would have hated to behead the wrong person merely because he didn’t like the way they had stared at the woman he was trying to protect.

Marle caught his eye ten minutes before the clock was set to chime midnight. He followed her out into an alcove near the gardens.

“I’ve found him,” she whispered, stepping closer so they’d be concealed from any prying eyes. “The man in the red silk doublet. You’ve seen him circling all night, haven’t you?”

“Yes.” The answer was all but growled out, surprising them both.

“I’ve agreed to meet him here in the gardens at midnight.” Her brow furrowed in worry. “A katakan doesn’t gently sip blood from its victims, does it?”

“No.” He didn’t want to tell her how the other victims’ throats had been violently torn open, blood drained from that wound and the many others the beast had caused. “You don’t have to…”

She stopped him with a finger to his lips. “Yes, I do. No one else needs to die if I do this.” She gave him a lopsided smile that did absolutely horrible things to his heart. “I trust you, Eskel. Even if I get hurt, you’ll save me.” She pulled a thin glass vial out of her bodice where it had been expertly hidden all evening by her cleavage. “Just remember the list I wrote for you.”

“I will.”

She looked at the vial, then back at him. Chewing on her bottom lip, she took a deep breath. “But just in case this goes pear-shaped and I don’t have another chance…” Without giving him any warning, she tugged on the front of his doublet with her free hand and dragged him down to her level, her mouth covering his in a kiss that left him frozen for a breathless second. Then he tightened his arms around her and hauled her up to his level, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist and crushing her to him, the other gently threading through her hair to tip her face at an angle to deepen their kiss.

She broke away first. “For luck,” she whispered, her lips still brushing his. Smoothing her hand down his chest, she uncorked the vial and swallowed the contents. “It shouldn’t take too long to…” Her eyes became unfocused and she swayed towards him, the empty vial dropping to the ground.

“That was quick.”

She giggled, then held her hand to her mouth. “Hallucinogenic mushrooms.” She jumped with a clock somewhere struck midnight. “That’s my cue.” She moved without the grace she had shown all night, looking as if she were a woman who had imbibed in far too much wine. It wasn’t long before the man who had been stalking her all night showed up, his mouth turned into a predatory smile that set Eskel’s teeth on edge from where he watched in his hidden alcove. Unsheathing his sword, he waited.

The fight was oddly short. Eskel truthfully didn’t remember much of it: his vision had gone red when the man’s mouth had opened and revealed a set of razor sharp teeth that had sank into Marle’s exposed throat and tore her delicate skin. He could dimly remember casting Yrden to trap the beast, then using the pommel of his sword to bash the katakan’s teeth in as Marle fell to the ground in a flutter of grey and sliver silks. Her drugged blood had done the trick: the katakan had been slower and less coordinated than their last meeting. After making certain it was dead, Eskel had rushed to Marle’s side, a potion she had given him before already tipped at her lips.

“Is it dead?” the lord asked, coming outside after all the noise had died down.

“Yes,” Eskel had barked over his shoulder, his fingers feeling for her pulse as he watched her ruined skin slowly knit together enough to stop the bleeding. He gathered her in his arms and stood, amazed at just how light she was. “She’s fine, thank you for asking.” He turned on his heel and made for the carriage they had been promised that would take them back to Marle’s shop.

“But what of the monster?”

_I don’t give a damn about that thing,_ he almost said, but stopped himself at the last minute. The body _was_ larger than the regular vampire, and it would be wise to perform an autopsy back at Kaer Morhen to see if there was anything worth learning from it. “Have your men keep it in a storage shed. I’ll collect the body _and_ my payment in the morning.”

With that, he strode off, ignoring the nobles who had decided to gawk, intent on getting Marle home.

* * *

 

Luckily the potion he had given Marle had done most of the healing by the time they had arrived at her shop. He held her close to him as he fumbled with the lock and opened the door. It would have been easier to take her to the back room downstairs, but he turned and headed up the staircase, the train of her gown brushing his legs. Carefully setting her against the pillows, he stared down at her. The gown was a complete loss: blood had soaked through the neckline and stained the bodice. He frowned. Not willing to have her wake up in the ruined dress that still stank of the katakan, he unlaced the fastenings and peeled her out of it, trying and failing to not stare at the matching lingerie she had worn underneath. Leaving her only long enough to gather the healing supplies, he came back to see her with her eyes open.

“Eskel?”

He dabbed at the drying blood on her neck and chest with the damp washcloth.  “Hey. Don’t try to move much, you lost a lot of blood.”

She yawned, her eyelids already drooping. “You came for me,” she whispered. “I knew you would.”

“I almost got you killed,” he said angrily, more upset with himself for not interfering faster than he had than at herself for willingly putting herself in danger.

“But I didn’t.”

“Why the hell do you do the things you do for me?” he quietly asked, putting on a thick layer of salve on her throat before wrapping the injury up in bandages.

“Because,” she slurred, closing her eyes. “I love you, you idiot man.”

She passed out before he could react. Reaching out, he undid the silver ornaments from her hair, thinking that she probably wouldn’t want anything pulling at her scalp when she woke up with the mother of all hangovers later. He’d read the list of poisons she had ingested; just one of the list was enough to give a far bigger man a buzz, but the combination she had taken paired with her petite frame was sure to do a number on her system. Covering her up with her quilt, he looked down at her, a fond smile on his lips.

_If only she had meant that,_ he thought wistfully, absently running his fingers through her hair. Before he thought better of it, he bent down and brushed his lips across her forehead. Heading back downstairs, he double checked all the locks and then went to the bed he had been staying in.

He didn’t get much sleep that night.

* * *

 

The next morning, Eskel busied himself at the fireplace in Marle’s upstairs bedroom, stirring the pot he had put on the fire. He turned his head when he heard the sound of Marle stirring. He winced. _Stirring_ was too gentle of a word. The noises coming from underneath the pile of pillows and blankets sounded more like something he’d expect from the undead.

“Ah, good. You’re awake.”

She huddled underneath the covers, only the barest hint of sleep-tousled hair peeking out from the blankets. “I fucking hate you,” she moaned.

He grinned. “No you don’t.”

“Yes I do. You made me load up on mushrooms and Melitele knows what else.”

He poured water into an earthenware mug that smelled faintly of tea and went to her bedside. “There’s a whole laundry list of toxins you took last night, sweetheart. Literally. You wrote everything down, complete with the dosage information and what to use to counter it this morning.” He gently pulled the blankets down, exposing her face. The kohl that had so beautifully lined her eyes last night was now ringed underneath, making her look like a ghastly pale raccoon and the bright red rouge that had made her lips temptingly kissable was smudged across her too-pale cheek. “Do you think you can keep some water down?”

She moaned weakly again, her hand snaking out from underneath the sheets to reach for the water he held. “I got _bitten_ ,” she accused.

“Yep.”

“And drained of blood, which _hurt_ , by the way.”

“Uh huh.”

“And…”

“And carried over my shoulder like a sack of grain from the party all the way back here,” he supplied. That was a lie, but she didn’t need to know about how he had cradled her in his arms in the carriage or what had been flitting though his head on the trip back to her place.

“Tell me someone else undressed me last night.” She gingerly sat up and tried to take the mug, but it was a trial to move her leaden arms up to tilt the glass to her lips.

“Nope. Nice underwear, by the way.” He grinned again as he gently tipped the glass up and allowed her tiny sips of water, his free hand supporting her back.

Marle groaned and leaned against his shoulder. “Of all the times for you to finally undress me and I was unconscious for it.”

Eskel pushed her hair away from her neck and checked on the bandage he had placed at her throat. “Well, the good news is that it doesn’t look like you’re going to scar,” he said, pleased that the salves she had laid out for him the night before were doing their jobs. “The bad news is that it’ll probably take forever for you to work everything out of your system. Think you can handle some broth?”

“I don’t want to even talk about food,” she said, sliding off his shoulder and burrowing against her pillows. “My stomach hurts just thinking about it.”

“You need to get something in you to help you regain what blood you lost.” He brushed his fingers over her forehead, finding her skin cold and clammy. Ignoring her protests, he went back to the hearth and ladled up a small portion of broth into her mug. “I know hangovers are a bitch to recover from, but food does help. I usually like having a bit of scrambled eggs with toast and…” he stopped, watching as she lunged over the side of the bed and grabbed the bucket he’d purposely left close by the night before. She heaved, but nothing except a very weak string of spittle came out.

“I told you thinking of food made me ill,” she accused, her voice echoing around the empty bucket she still had her face in.

“Maybe we’ll start you on pickle juice instead, get some electrolytes back into your system.”

Marle sat back up and wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand.   “I have no idea why I do the things I do for you, Eskel.”

“Well,” he started, sitting on the edge of the bed. He cleared his throat, remembering what she had told him before passing out. “I owe you one,” he said instead, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

“You would have done the same if our spots were reversed.”

He had to snort at that. “Somehow I don’t see you as a Witcher. You’d never reach any monster’s head to cut it off.”

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “No, but they’d never see me coming. Their knees wouldn’t know what hit them.” She took the broth he offered and sipped at it. “This is good.”

“Should be. Marrow mixed with saliva harvested fresh from the katakan we took down. Just the thing to get you over the neurotoxins it pumped into you to keep you still.” Now he really did have to laugh out loud at her horrified expression, her face getting even paler than it already was. “Relax. It’s just ordinary beef stock with some onions and garlic.”

“We?” she asked, wrinkling her nose at him. “I might have been mostly out of it, but I seem to recall you being the one with the sword.”

“Yeah, but you were the one who slowed it down for me.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “We make a good team: the Witcher and his Tiny Apprentice.”

“Come on, I’m not that short.”

“You barely come up to my chest.”

“Shoulder.”

“Same area.”

She handed the empty mug back to him. “Fine, so I’m pocket-sized.” She looked down and fidgeted with the blanket covering her lap. “I had fun last night. Well, aside from the whole getting drugged, being bitten and knocked unconscious part. Everything leading up to that was nice.”

“I’m glad. We should do it more often. Getting away, that is. Not the monster baiting part.”

“I’d like that.” She chewed at her bottom lip. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

“I told the lord I’d retrieve the katakan body from his shed today when I went to see him about getting paid. I’d like to get up to Kaer Morhen to do a formal autopsy on it, compare notes with Vesemir to see just what made this one different from all the rest.”

She nodded. “Then you’d better get a move-on. The lord doesn’t like waiting, and the sooner he can get a stinking carcass out of his house, the better.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she shook her head. “I’m fine. Your miracle broth is working wonders.”

He rolled his eyes. “Heh, liar,” he said fondly. “But if you’re sure you’ll be all right…”

“I’ll be fine, Eskel. Just come back to say goodbye, okay?”

* * *

 

She was dressed and gingerly walking around by the time he returned, his pockets significantly heavier than they usually were after a completed contract.

“I can make a portal for you, save you some travel time,” she offered, sipping on a glass of pickle juice, her nose crinkling in distaste.

“You really think you can manage a portal big enough for me, a dead monster, _and_ Scorpion in your condition?”

She gave a dismissive huff. “Doubt all my other magical talents all you want, Witcher, but never doubt my portal-making abilities,” she said mock-haughtily. She followed him outside where Scorpion was already saddled and ready to go, the Katakan draped over his back. Gesturing for him to lead the horse around back, she led him to a secluded alley behind her shop and away from prying eyes.

“Take care of yourself, Marle,” he said, holding onto her shoulders.

She stepped into his embrace and held onto him tightly. “You too. Maybe the next time we meet, it’ll be under nicer circumstances.”

“I hope so.” He felt her move away, and he regretfully let her go. He watched as she closed her eyes and moved her arms in a familiar pattern, a portal appearing in front of them. Before stepping into the portal, he turned to look at her over his shoulder. “I know why you do the things you do,” he said.

Her eyes widened. “Oh?”

_Because you’ve never questioned why I need your help. Because you kissed me last night. Because you told me you loved me._ Instead of telling her all of those things, he simply nodded. “They’re the same reasons I’d do the same for you,” he said instead. Without giving her a chance to reply, he stepped through the portal and disappeared out of sight.

Marle stood in the alley, wincing at the too-bright sunlight. Shaking her head, she gave an exasperated sigh. “Idiot man,” she affectionately said, her fingers lingering on her lips that still tingled from his kiss.


End file.
